


Get Your Head in the Game

by tuxlouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Basketball, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, and his blind date, harry hates sports, harry is gonna kill niall, like a lot of fluff, louis is cute and likes sports, sports!AU, thats about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuxlouis/pseuds/tuxlouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is on the worst blind date ever at a basketball game, thanks to Niall.<br/>Luckily, he's sat beside Louis, a beautiful stranger who decides to save Harry's dignity when the kiss cam lands on him and his date.</p><p>Based on this prompt: http://teamzain.tumblr.com/post/118007466208/intenselouis-legohousedea-where-is-my-larry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Your Head in the Game

**Author's Note:**

> So this is not the first thing I've written but the first Larry thing I've officially published! I wrote it really quickly and it's definitely not the best but I saw the prompt and couldn't resist. Please leave comments/kudos! Enjoy!

It's 6pm on a lovely Saturday evening, and Harry is on the worst date he's ever been on.

Like, Harry doesn't even _like_ sports, that's the thing. But he can never say no to Niall, and when Niall said he had met a guy that was just perfect for Harry, Harry couldn't turn him down.

He didn't go down without a fight, though, Niall had to drag up statistics of the last time that Harry had even _been_ on a date, and Harry had cringed so hard at the time stamp that he had reluctantly agreed.

So this is why him and his apparent soulmate are sitting stiffly at a basketball game (a game Harry has absolutely _no_ interest in) with his future husband glued to his phone, Harry bored out of his mind.

"So..." Harry begins trying to get _something_ out of the guy, "you're a big sports fan, then?"

It takes the guy about two minutes to drag his eyes from his phone and onto Harry, an indifferent look on his face.

"I mean, I guess," he frowns, shifting in his seat, "my ex wife hooked me up with some tickets, so I thought I should use 'em."

Harry stares at him incredulously. This guy has been _married_. Is this a joke? It better be a joke. He's going to kill Niall.

"Right," Harry mumbles. He's just contemplating an emergency call he could pretend to take to get the hell out of there when he's jostled to the side by a weight to his left. He turns, about to tell someone off, before he's met with bright blue eyes and a tan that is definitely out of place for January, and Harry's accusations die in his throat.

"Sorry mate! My bad," the guy says, looking up at Harry through ridiculously long lashes and grinning.

It's takes Harry a moment to remember how speech works, but when he does, he manages to get out an "uh, it's okay, no problem." The guy sends him a beaming grin and sits in the empty seat right beside him.

Great, just...great.

It's then that Harry notices the guy behind him, a darker skinned Greek God with a bone structure exquisite enough to make angels weep. It's then that he also notices the guy and his friend are actually sporting jerseys of whatever team they're watching, he's guessing. At least someone might actually enjoy the game, he thinks.

The game starts, and everyone is cheering, and even his date manages a little enthusiasm as the players jog onto the court. Harry looks around him, confused as of how he should be acting, when he catches the eye of the guy beside him. The guy is grinning at him again, which, what?

Harry frowns at him, which only causes the guy's smile to widen.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," the guy narrows his eyes at him, "you have absolutely no idea how this game works, do you?"

Harry sputters, attempting to defend himself.

"I'll have you know I know _plenty_ about basketball-"

"Mate," the guy interrupts with a laugh, "I've been watching you for the past couple minutes and you like a fish out of water. Probably never seen a basketball game in your life."

Harry flushes, embarrassed that he's so transparent, before deepening his scowl. "What do you mean you've been watching me?"

The guy simply shrugs, absolutely shameless, before saying, "just trying to figure out why a guy who knows jack shit about sports is sitting at a game by himself."

Harry has to think about it for a minute, because why _is_ he there? He should just get up and leave, it's not like his 'date' would miss Harry's presence, or even notice his absence. But then he looks at the guy to his left, waiting for an answer, and thinks he may as well stick around.

"I'm not by myself," Harry says defensively, "I'm on a date."

The guy frowns for the first time of the evening, a crease between his eyebrows that is very much not cute.

"A date? Where's your date?" He asks, confusion dripping from his voice.

Harry's sweeps a hand to his right, gesturing to the guy who appears to be playing Family Feud on his phone. He's so engrossed in the game that he doesn't even notice Harry's attention on him. Harry's not even a little bit surprised

The guy pauses for a long moment. "You're joking, right?"

Harry sighs. "Sadly not, he's said about 3 words to me the whole night, within which he's managed to mention he's been married. To a woman."

The guy almost looks angry, which, okay, but then his expression schools itself into painfully casual.

"That's pretty shit, mate," he says, at the same time his friend turns towards them and nudges him on the shoulder.

"Lou, I'm gonna get a drink, want anything?"

The guy- Lou, apparently- shakes his head, and his friend walks away and disappears down the stairs.

Lou turns towards him again and holds out his hand. "As you could probably put together, I'm Louis," he says, an easy smile on his lips.

Harry clears his throat and takes his hand, feeling the rough skin against his own.

"I'm, uh, Harry," he gets through.

Louis' smile is blinding.

"Well, Harry," he starts, "let's teach you a thing or two about basketball."

\--

As it turns out, basketball is pretty boring, but Louis' lesson makes it a bit more tolerable.

Harry's never been a big fan of sports, clearly, but now he doesn't even really understand how there _are_ sports fans. He thinks of Niall and Liam, constantly sitting on the beat up couch in their flat with beers in their hands and asses on the edges of their seats. Now that he thinks of it, he could probably use a beer, or three.

Harry turns to his date- who's name he can't even remember at this point- and sees him blankly staring at the court with unfocused eyes. Harry supposed he should probably try to start a conversation every twenty minutes or so, so he's been been checking in with him periodically. He looks like he's about ready to fling himself over the railing in front of them and onto the hard court below. Harry can relate.

"Good game, huh?" Harry asks, hoping to get more than the grunt he had managed to coax out of him the last time he approached a conversation.

"Yeah, s'alright," the guy mutters, his eyes never leaving the court.

"The RedHawks are winning, crazy, innit?" Harry asks.

The guy lets out a hum in agreement, and Harry decides to not mention that neither of the playing teams are the RedHawks, he's pretty sure that's a hockey team. Harry guesses his date is just as invested in the game as he is.

The game is almost over, thank _god_ , and a voice comes over the speakers telling them to direct their attention to the jumbo screen.

Harry watches the screen with newfound interest; maybe something relatively exciting will happen.

And right Harry was, as the words 'kiss cam' appear on screen and the camera wanders around the arena, picking it's victims, and all Harry can think is _God no please please please no no not him and Family Feud guy anybody but him an-_

But apparently the world is laughing at Harry, because the camera slows to a stop at Harry and his pathetic excuse for a date.

All of Harry's insides groan in protest and dread, but something in his mind decides that maybe this is a good thing, a great thing, even.

Maybe a kiss can turn this date around and possibly lead to some decent sex. That is a risk Harry is willing to take.

He excitedly shakes the shoulder of his date, pointing to the jumbo screen. The guy looks up, something looking remarkably like disinterest in his eyes, and turns his head away.

Wow. Alright then. Not only is the worst date in the history of dates, but now he's been publicly humiliated in front of a whole arena of people and two NBA teams. Awesome. He's going to _murder_ Niall.

Harry turns his head, confused as of what do, when his eyes lock with Louis, and _oh_.

Louis has been flirting with him the whole game, has openly showed his anger at how Harry's date is ignoring him, and is simultaneously the most gorgeous creature Harry has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. This could be a great excuse to kiss him, not to mention an adorable story to tell their grandkids some day. Yes, Harry is all for this.

Harry just raises his eyebrows at Louis, glancing at the kiss cam. Louis seems to be on the same page as Harry, because his lips quirk up in a smile, and he's leaning in.

He grabs the back of Harry's neck and brings his head towards his own, and Louis tips his head and angles his mouth towards Harry and touches his lips to Harry. It's nowhere near hesitant, Louis' mouth working against his own and his tongue quickly darting out to lick at the seam of Harry's lips. Somewhere Harry can hear his date yelling in outrage, and the crowd is cheering them on, so Harry happily accepts Louis' tongue in his mouth, and then they're kissing for real. Harry reaches up and fists Louis' shirt in his hand, bringing them closer together and coaxing a sound of out Louis. Their tongues slide together for a couple more moments and Harry thinks he should break this off before it becomes outright indecent, remembering they're being recorded. He releases Louis' lips and leans back a little, smiling at Louis so hard he thinks is face might crack in half. Louis is _wrecked_ , lips red and a flush down to his neck, but he's smiling too. And it's good. It's really, really good.

The crowd is going nuts, wolf whistling and laughing and applauding like crazy, and when Harry tears his gaze from Louis and looks over, his date is gone.

Louis takes that as his cue to stand up and do a dramatic bow, holding up his hands at the crowd like he's a celebrity. Harry lets out a loud cackle, and Louis' friend has his head in his hands, but Harry can tell he's smiling too.

The rest of the game goes by in a blur of stolen glances and bashful smiles and Louis' hand on his thigh, and before he knows it someone's won and teams are jogging off court.

They both stand up and Harry eyes the empty seat where his date once sat and sighs.  
"What a great date," he says. He hears Louis snort beside him. When he turns around, Louis' friend is gone, as is most of the audience, and Louis is looking at the floor. He sticks his hands in his pockets and look up at Harry through his lashes and says "well, you never know, your night might turn around. If you want to see what a real date looks like, I could, uh, take you dinner?"

Harry is stunned for a moment, never having seen Louis look anything but relaxed and confident. Louis must take his silence as a no, because then he's sputtering a "sorry, that was stupid, never mind, I'll just-"

"Louis," Harry interrupts, laughing, and grabs Louis' arm. He looks up at Harry with hope in his eyes, and he's so cute Harry might cry.

"I would love to go to dinner with you," Harry says, biting his lip to contain his smile.

Louis' smile in return is blinding and he bounces of the balls of his feet a little.

"Good," he starts, "because my ex wife made us this reservation, and I-"

"Oi, shut up!" Harry laughs, shoving Louis' shoulder, causing him to dissolve into laughter and dart up to kiss Harry's mouth again.

 

And their grandkids hear the story so many times they're sick to death of it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at herculou


End file.
